all the dust in the corner
by Ten-Faced
Summary: drabble countdown to 'For You I Die'.
1. with a sore jaw

#1: despite everything he smiles broadly. markangie, past.

* * *

Angie Flynn has the right to be called world-weary. Single parent of a boy since eighteen, raising him on his own while working in the police force? She's been thrown into the riptide with cinder blocks tied around her ankle.

Here's the thing about Angie though; she's strong. She's certainly had tiring days, but in no sense of the word is she 'broken'. Nor is she 'passive' or 'reluctant' or even 'bitter'. She's swum out of those churning white waters with the weights dragging from her ankles with a smile like a shark's because she's one tough girl, Angie. She's not afraid to face him down when he's angry and even smacks him one right in the kisser with her fist when she feels it's necessary because that's just how she is.

Mark Cross rubs his sore jaw - it may or may not bruise come next morning - and then he can't help but smile broadly despite the pain, despite the odd looks he gets, despite the winks and definitely despite the one whistle from the dick in the corner.


	2. a child is a treasure

#2: Manny is young, but he has a knack for being there when his mom needs him.

* * *

Manny is seven years old. Old enough to know that Mark isn't his dad, young enough to wish he was. It won't be the same as other families – it never will, he knew even then – but he can still hope and dream, and sometimes maybe hint to his mother.

She just smiles at him. "Is mom not good enough for you?" she asks in a soft voice. They're in the kitchen, Mark's gone home –Manny saw the look in his eyes when he looked at mom while saying good night, and it was a nice look – and they're in the kitchen, sipping at hot chocolate with marshmallows and whipped cream for a little treat.

He denies it immediately, getting a bit of the cream on his nose in his loud protests. "But I do like Mark," he admits after she calms him down and wipes off the cream from his nose with a flick of her calloused, bare fingers.

She's quiet, and it takes her a while to reply. "Yeah, me too."

/

Manny is eight years old, old enough to notice that something changed, for the bad. That's obvious from his mom's restless state, her tired face and the way she stirs her coffee in the morning, staring blankly into the dark liquid while the spoon twirls mechanically.

Mark would know what to say to make her snap out and either laugh or punch the bigger guy in the arm, only Mark never comes to visit. When Manny asks about him, his mother looks like she wants to cry – and he knows better, knows by now.

Eventually – three tries later – he stops asking because his mother is more important than Mark is, and she appreciates his silent hugs a lot.

But he never forgets.

/

Manny is thirteen – a teenager that sometimes loves and quite often hates his mother – when he meets the new partner for the first time. Oscar Vega is a stout man, one well-dressed and rather smoothly educated if the way he speaks is any indication.

To the young teenage boy he is, Oscar sounds smart. He looks smart, too, like he'd never once lose his temper or get mad.

There's a foil here.

He offers a hand to the man, and smiles just a bit to himself when he notices that he's only a head shorter than his mother's new partner. He'll catch up soon, he's got time to grow. "Nice to meet you, sir," Manny says, and then gets a bit bold. "If you ever hurt my mother I'll make you regret it."

His mother, of course, bursts out laughing. Oscar, surprisingly, smiles at him and the laugh lines around his eyes are friendly. "Message received," he replies.

And they all get along well. Oscar is an awesome friend to the family, and Manny knows he'll have his mother's back.

/

Manny is eighteen when his mother spills out some of what she's gotten bottled up inside of her out to him. And of course he remembers Mark. There are rose-tinted lenses on the memories of his youth regarding the man who was like a dad to him – who he loved like a dad – and his mother had never once removed them.

But when she sounds tired and gives a vague description of what she's involved in at the moment, Manny gets that although she's an adult, she's still trying to make the decision of right-or-wrong. They're both old enough to know that there's never just a black and white answer to everything, but this is a yes-or-no, extreme ultimatum she has sitting heavily in her bony lap.

She's so tired and just a bit confused and maybe even lost, his hard-working, tough-as-nails and I'm-going-to-kick-your-ass-to-next-Sunday-because-I'm-a-homicide-detective-so-help-me mother. So he relies the instincts _she's_ taught _him_, based on her experience as an officer of the law. Right now she's tired and unsure, but if she was to detach herself and see it all from a step back in perspective, she'd be as clear as daylight in what she was going to do. In the end the truth will come out – she has to tell it, right?

There's some more fire in her eyes when she smiles at him under the cheap lights of the just-as-cheap food joint they're sitting in, and he knows he's made her proud.


	3. the man-hungry hunter out on the prowl

#3: Betty Rogers has standards.

* * *

Betty Rogers may be a 'man-hungry hunter out on the prowl' (words from her first husband during a fight), but contrary to what he or his successors may believe, she has standards. High ones.

Oscar Vega – good looking, a perfect gentleman, wonderful manners, plenty of access. Betty would consider 'ensnaring him with her feminine wiles' (as she imagines her first husband saying with a bitter look on his face) if it weren't for one thing. For one person.

Angie.

Mark Cross – delicious, charming, smooth and ample opportunity to strike. Betty would do much more than just 'consider' if it weren't for one thing. For one person.

Angie.

Betty Rogers is not bitter for the 'lost opportunity'. There are other fish in the sea, just as big – if not bigger – and more chances in the world. She will not hurt her friend by accidentally risking her partner, or sleeping with someone painful from her past.

Contrary to what her ex-husbands may think, she's better than that. She has standards.

(And poking flirtations at Brian Lucas – well, the good detective is so easily flustered even if she may not mean anything, and it's quite fun.)


	4. it makes no sense

#4: If there was ever a fallacy, it would be love.

* * *

His wife is young-looking, and he supposes she is young, too, in many senses of the word. She's a brunette, and filled with the innocent energy of the youthful. She has a high, clear and sweet voice. She's his _wife_.

Angie has premature lines around her eyes and her stubborn mouth, and there is something in the way she moves that speaks volumes of experience earned fully, painfully. Her golden hair is not yet streaked with silver, but he'll bet anything that it'll be dotted with gray strands years earlier than her time. Her voice is low, hoarse and throaty when she speaks her words. She's his _partner_ and comes with the baggage of an eight year old boy.

He doesn't know why he wants her more than he's ever wanted his wife.


End file.
